


A World of Our Own

by BarbarasBunny



Category: Amar a Muerte (TV)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Romance, Tenderness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-02
Updated: 2019-09-02
Packaged: 2020-10-05 23:23:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20497067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarbarasBunny/pseuds/BarbarasBunny
Summary: Picking up about a year after Amar A Muerte's two-year flash-forward ending, Juliana and Valentina attend a Gala where Juliana is to be recognized for her work in fashion. They book a suite at the hotel venue and spend the night there.It's fluff, sin with a load of feelings and zero angst.





	A World of Our Own

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! 
> 
> My very first Juliantina fic is finally here. This is basically the future I dream of for Juliana and Valentina; Mexico's ultimate power couple and still as in love with one another as ever. It started out as a one-shot but ... we'll you'll see. I'll be waiting to hear your thoughts. They'll help me decide if I should keep writing :D.

“Oye, estas bien?” Valentina asked softly.

She was seated to Juliana’s left in the back of the SUV. They were on their way to a Gala. But not just any Gala. Tonight, Juliana would be honored as a trailblazer for ethical achievements on Mexico’s fashion scene. So she was understandably nervous. And as usual, when she felt nervous, she absentmindedly nibbled at her fingernails, the ones on her right hand this time, as she stared blindly out the window.

Until Valentina closes the small space between them, lifting her hand to lightly brush Juliana’s, bringing a truce to the war between teeth and nails.

Juliana turns to face her. “Qué?” There’s a tiny, sheepish, smile on her face. She’d been caught worrying again and hadn’t even heard the question.

Val smiles gently. “I was asking if you’re okay,” she says, dropping her hand to cup the side of Juliana’s neck, her fingers reaching and gently brushing against the fine hairs she finds at its nape. She loved the feel of Juliana’s hair under her fingers. So while the goal was to pass on comfort, it was a two-way street.

“Oh, si. I’m just a little nervous,” Juliana confesses, letting out a small laugh. And she was, but what Valentina’s fingertips were doing at the nape of her neck was definitely helping. She settles into the feeling, closing her eyes and holding Val’s hand against her skin.

They’d been together for almost three years now. Three years of learning about each other to be better for each other. Each has since made a way through the other’s known walls; not forcefully or imposingly, but by caringly carving a door through and walking right to the other side where hearts are laid bare. Together, they’d built a unique foundation for their relationship; one of generosity and complete reciprocity. Each gave as much as the other would accept while being respectful of the other’s boundaries. Not out of compulsion or obligation. But because each loved the other just that much. At this point, neither tried to minimize the depth of her feelings for fear of losing the other. Neither was afraid to admit that they needed the other. And right now, Juliana needed Valentina.

But a few moments of relief are all her mind would allow as she’s once more reminded that they are on their way to a gala where she’d be honored. Her stomach lurches along with the car as they go over a speed bump. She glances down and starts to fiddle with her fingertips.

As much as Valentina immediately wanted Julentina to feel better, she also didn’t want to do it in a way that would minimize or dismiss her worry.

“It’s okay to be nervous,” she begins, moving her hand from Juls’s neck to place her fingers lightly underneath her chin. The mild pressure prompts Juls to look up at her.

“But you remember when you were freaking out about your senior design project?” Valentina asked, angling her head so she could stare into Jul’s brown eyes, shimmering now as the car drove past the night lights.

“Yes,” Juliana responds, smiling at the memory. It had been at the tail-end of her final semester at fashion school.

“And who ended up not only crushing her presentation but also managing to finish top of her class?” Valentina asks as she lets her hand fall gently onto Juliana’s thigh.

“I did.” Juliana plays along, her smile lingering as she covers Valentina’s hand on her thigh with hers, before intertwining their fingers.

“And remember your first fashion show?” Valentina continues.

“How could I forget?” Juliana responds. “There was this really hot model …”

“Oh, a hot model, huh?” Valentina interrupted, pulling back slightly to get a better look at Juls face as she feigns offense.

“Yes, her name starts with a ‘Valen’ and ends with a ‘Tina.’ And she had the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen.” Juliana responds as she tugs at Valentina’s wrist, closing the small space between them once more. She couldn’t bear to keep up with the notion that someone else may have caught her eye, for too long. Not even as a joke. But as Valentina giggles under her breath, the sound reverberates against her heart, enveloping it in warmth and she marvels at the depth of her love for this woman.

“Very smooth, Juls,” Val says still giggling as Juliana places a hand on her waist leaning in close with the motion until their faces were only inches apart.

“That’s my brand, isn’t it?” Juliana retorted jokingly.

She was what people would generally consider a ‘serious’ person, and Valentina was one of the few people who both managed to draw out, as well as see this side of her. And she reveled in the effect it had on Valentina every time, as she always managed to somehow completely disarm and transform her into a puddle of incoherence. And right now, she felt an overwhelming urge to taste the laughter on Valentina’s lips so she leans in and kisses her.

Valentina smiles into the kiss, content with herself. Of all the ways she knew how to distract Juls, this was one of her favorites. Right now, it was levity, comfort, familiarity, in a gentle meeting of lips. It also meant that her efforts had worked and Juls was feeling better about the night they had ahead of them.

They pull apart as the car slows to a stop, turning toward the voice of the driver as he announces their arrival.

“Estaban aqui, senoritas.”

“Gracias, Alirio,” Juliana responds.

The dim lights in the back of the car come on, flooding over both of them.

“Your lipgloss is smeared,” Val says with a chuckle, as she turns to grab a purse on her other side. She retrieves a tube of lip gloss from it, quickly unscrewing the top. Juliana leans in dutifully, puckering up as Val gingerly restores her lip gloss.

“Better,” Valentina says, as Juliana takes the tube from her hand to return the favor. Glossy lips fixed, she hands the tube back to Val, who puts it back in her purse.

“Ready?” Valentina asked, offering Juliana her hand.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

Hand in hand, they climb out of the car to a barrage of flashing camera lights in typical red carpet arrival fashion.

***

The first floor of the W Hotel, Mexico City was bustling with activity as Gala attendees made their way around the reception area. A red carpet lined the floors from the drop-off zone outside, over the threshold, up to a large, logoed step-and-repeat backdrop, a few feet away from the entrance on the right-hand side. Photographers were scattered around on the outer side of a set of rope and stanchion that led from the entrance, all the way to the hot zone; the area where VIP guests stopped to have their photos taken.

Looking every inch the ultimate power couple, Juliana and Valentina strode in hand-in-hand.

Valentina was a vision with her hair held up in a loose updo, a few stray tendrils fallen over to frame her delicate facial features. She was decked out in a black, mini dress with long sleeves. It was made out of shimmery fabric that outlined her lithe form from her shoulders, over the curve of her hip, cutting off above her knees to expose toned calves, down to strappy-heel-clad feet. Her skin peeped through the lacy fabric of the bust, the plunging neckline exposing her cleavage.

And Juliana, the woman of the moment, looked absolutely stunning in a stylish, power-suit-like get-up; a tailored black, cape blazer was thrown over her shoulders; partially hiding a crop top underneath. The top, made out of shimmery fabric that matched Valentina’s, fell loosely around her bust to expose the rise of her breasts, hanging right over her waist to tease an expanse of caramel skin. The waist of her pants picked up a few inches below, hugging the rise of her hips before falling lose over her legs, down to her pointy-toed pumps. Over the years, she’d grown out her hair, and right now, the luscious locks fell gloriously around her shoulders, in a way that would trigger envy in a shampoo commercial model.

They immediately launched into the motions of posing together for photos as they reach the hot zone.

When they are prompted to pose for a few solo shots, Juliana’s hand instinctively tightens over Valentina’s, gently tugging her close, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“You look very beautiful,” she said. Her warm breath falling against Valentina’s ear as she spoke.

A mild shiver runs down Valentina’s spine as she feels a familiar flutter in her stomach. A little under three years ago, she’d been the one saying these same words to Juliana on the porch of the Carvajal mansion on Guille’s birthday. It was on that night that they’d both began to realize their feelings for one another were beyond platonic. Now, standing on the red carpet together, Juliana about to be recognized for her work in fashion; and herself, a successful journalist, who occasionally doubled as a runway model, she marvels at how far they’ve come.

Valentina smiled into Juliana’s eyes gently, closing hers as she leans in and places a soft kiss against Juliana’s temple. She leans closer to Juliana’s ears.

“I’m so proud of you,” she whispered. And she meant that in many ways.

Juliana smiled back warmly as each reluctantly lets go of the other’s hand, before turning around to individually pose for the photographers.


End file.
